Ovum Act 10 The Written Record, Carleton Rode, Norfolk ancestors 1661 CE

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It is now 26 December 1661, the date of the baptism of my eight-times great-grandmother, Anne Carter, at All Saints, Carleton Rode, Norfolk. Although the images in this post are AI-generated, the records themselves are authentic. With this entry, our mitochondrial DNA H6a1a8 trail officially enters my recorded genealogy.

As can be deciphered in the Carleton Rode baptism register shown above, her father was named Richard Carter. In keeping with the social conventions of the time, the family was not regarded as prominent enough for the cleric to record the name of her mother.

Anne (or Ann) Carter married Robert Smith of Carleton Rode, Norfolk, on 26 May 1683. The ceremony did not take place at their local parish church; instead, they obtained a licence and travelled 15 miles to be married at St Stephen’s in the city of Norwich.

The use of a marriage licence and the journey to a prestigious city church suggest a "middling sort" status. Her family likely possessed the financial means and social literacy required to navigate legal systems beyond the village level. Despite the rise of religious Dissent in the area, Anne's consistent presence in the parish registers suggests Conformist Anglicanism. She probably valued the legal and social security provided by Church of England registration. Consequently, it is highly likely that Robert and Anne Smith (née Carter) belonged to the 17th-century yeomanry, consisting of freeholders or prosperous tenant farmers.

The couple raised five daughters in Carleton Rode: Climence (1684), Anne (1686), Dorothy (1690), Thomazin (1692), and Elizabeth (1695). As there are no surviving records of sons, it appears the Smith household was predominantly female.

Anne lived in the shadow of England’s second-greatest city. While she remained in a rural setting, her economic life was tethered to the global success of Norwich’s worsted weaving industry. She witnessed the transition of these villages from isolated hamlets into productive spokes of an early industrial wheel.

Born shortly after the Restoration of the Monarchy (1660) and dying just before the Union of Great Britain (1707), her life spanned the period known as the "Great Stabilisation". Following the upheaval of the Civil War—which her father survived—her era was defined by the rebuilding of traditional structures, such as the Church of England and the local parish vestry.

Anne’s physical world was significantly colder than our own. She lived through the Maunder Minimum, a period of exceptionally harsh winters and erratic harvests. This environmental stress made the "heavy lands"—the dense clay soils of South Norfolk—particularly difficult to farm and navigate. Such conditions likely contributed to the health challenges that led to her death at the age of 44.

Her daughter, Anne Smith, was baptized on 10 March 1687 at All Saints, Carleton Rode, Norfolk. As my 7th great-grandmother, she carried the mtDNA haplogroup H6a1a8, marking a vital link in the maternal line from antiquity to the written record. At age 19, she married John Brighting (also recorded as Briting) on 12 December 1705 at Carleton Rode.

Anne Brighting, née Smith, bore at least seven children baptized at Carleton Rode between 1708 and 1728 before her life was cut short at age 40. The parish burial register reveals a grim winter in 1727; Anne’s entry sits just lines away from Richard and Sarah 'Britling,' both buried within days of one another. This clustering suggests a localized epidemic—perhaps the 'Great Flu' or Typhus that ravaged the English countryside that year.

​Yet, before she was laid to rest, the ancestral chain remained unbroken. She passed our mtDNA H6a1a8 to her daughter, Susanna Briting (baptized at Carleton Rode in 1722), ensuring the 'Helena' lineage survived the hardships of 18th-century Norfolk to reach the present day.

GO TO THE NEXT ACT - The Agricultural labourers of 19th century East Norfolk. 1849 CE


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Ovum Act 9 Late Medieval South Norfolk. The Black Death 1349 CE

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Meet my 25th great-grandmother. The year is 1349 CE during the Late Middle Ages. She is the final hypothesised representative of my mtDNA H6a1a8 line before I transition to my documented matrilineal ancestors.

This ancestor, Alice, lived through remarkably calamitous times. Recent generations had already endured the Great Famine (1315–1322) and a devastating bovine pestilence (1319–1321). They had faced the 'Malthusian Deadlock'—an era of overpopulation and land hunger—which coincided with the harsh onset of the 'Little Ice Age'. But Alice is made of sturdy stuff; she is already a proven survivor.

Life was already arduous in South Norfolk, even for my rural ancestors whom I have visualised as being of middling villein status. But now, a terrifying new pestilence is sweeping the country. Having already reached the ports of Great Yarmouth and the streets of Norwich, it looms over the village: the Black Death.

This is Alice's husband, John, on the last day he felt well enough to labour in the fields. He does not yet know it, but flea bites have infected him with a bacterium named Yersinia pestis. The tell-tale sign will be the bubo: a painful, grape-to-orange-sized swelling of the lymph nodes in the groin, armpit, or neck.

His chances of survival are slim; the fatality rate sits between 60% and 80%. Unless the buboes miraculously burst and drain, the infection will likely overwhelm him, leading to a swift death from septicaemia within the week.

John will be one of many. Around half of the parishioners in his manor will perish. The community will be shattered, and entire family lineages will be destroyed.

Alice proved resilient even against the Great Mortality. It is possible she possessed a genetic resistance passed down to her daughters, though her survival came at a heavy price: she was now a widow. While the initial terror of 1349 eventually subsided, the suffering was far from over. The plague did not simply burn out; it lingered in the soil and the shadows, surging back with a vengeance between 1361 and 1362.

Because those who survived the first wave often retained immunity, this second coming—the pestis puerorum—was cruelest to the young who had been born into a brief window of peace.

Imagine the toll on Alice’s spirit. To witness more than half of her world culled by a devastating "Great Death" would shatter any modern psyche. Yet, she did not surrender. This resilience became a blueprint for the generations that followed. In my own ancestry, I see forebears who endured centuries of poverty, injustice, and hardship. They didn't just curl up and die; they forged a legacy of endurance. That is the true inheritance of my research.

By 1366, Alice had begun a second chapter, marrying a plague widower in the nearby Norfolk parish of Carleton Rode. Though they grieved a child lost to the surge of 1362, they did not dwell on the past. Alice and her new husband were part of a rising class—a "new breed" of survivors who understood their value. With labour in short supply, they wielded a negotiating power across the manors that their ancestors could never have imagined.

They now held a full virgate—thirty acres of prime land. Their holdings were grander than ever: more strips of arable soil to plough and a larger herd of cattle grazing the commons. Most importantly, Alice’s line endured. Her daughter survived, carrying forward the mitochondrial DNA—the H6a1a8 lineage—that had successfully navigated the eye of the storm.

GO TO THE NEXT ACT - The first two recorded generations. Anglican conformists at Carleton Rode, Norfolk. 1661 CE


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Ovum Act 8 Option B. The Last of the Romano-Britons and the first Anglians. East Anglia 440 CE

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It is now 440 CE in the Tas Valley of what is now called Norfolk, England. My 51-times great-grandmother is a young girl, playing in the ruins of the old city of Venta Icenorum. Other than squatters and salvage-hunters, the city has largely fallen into decay and is mostly deserted.

Her people are Romanistas - Romano-Britons. They are the Christian, Romanised Britons of the 5th century, and they have good reason to pray. It has been more than thirty years since the last legions departed Britannia. The shore forts stand derelict. The economy is in crisis, and their society is shattered.

Her father is a decurion, a local magistrate and landowner. He has witnessed the decline throughout his life. His tenants are restless, their economy still clinging to the memory of the coin, yet they scratch the heavy local soils with light ards that barely bite the earth.

​But a new people are settling these lands, arriving from across the North Sea. Their culture is alien, having evolved free of imperial history. They are industrious workers and brave warriors. They use heavy iron-shod ploughs and brute strength to turn the stubborn clay soils. They rely on barter and tender—trading their surplus products rather than coinage.

​The father is wise. He understands the value of cultivating a strong relationship with these new tenants, mercenaries, and trading partners. They may speak in rough Germanic tongues and worship pagan deities, but they promise a way out of the crisis. These are the early arrivals of a people known as the Angles. They have arrived as mercenaries and pioneers, and have brought a dearth of brides. My 51-times great-grandmother was always destined for an arranged marriage.

Her father had made a wise decision. Her husband's family proved they knew how to get the best out of these difficult soils. Their imported culture inspired the local Romano-Britons; by leading through example, they became the new leaders of the valley.

This AI image visualises the aging couple. They sit at home in a comfortable Anglo-Saxon house. I've asked for a cross section to demonstrate the earth pit basement below the wooden floor. These features left archaeological traces known as SFB (sunken feature building).

My 51-times great-grandmother practices the funerary rites for her husband. The transformation is complete. She began life British, in the Romano-British culture, and ends it English, immersed in the Anglo-Saxon culture.

​Cultures often change, but those who work the soil frequently remain. This underplayed rule applies more so to the women—a rule that can be observed through the mtDNA record.

Rationale

​Recent genomic studies—most notably the 2022 Gretzinger et al. study—suggest a significant genetic turnover in Eastern England, with up to 74% of the ancestry in areas like Norfolk being attributed to Continental Northern European populations.

​At first, this sounds like support for the old 'mass Anglo-Saxon invasion' story of Hengist and Horsa. However, the researchers stress that this immigration event was spread over as much as 600 years, from the early mercenaries up to and including the 9th and 10th-century Danish (Viking) farmers. This represents a long, drawn-out North Sea Immigration Continuum.

​Therefore, integration was often a more peaceful process, occurring one generation at a time. It is easy to see the economic advantage of marrying into North Sea communities. Was there conflict and coercion? I am sure some existed; horror stories based on fact likely served the tabloid-like religious lessons of early monastic historians like Bede.

​These new arrivals—the 74% of East Anglians who conquered the boulder-clay soils—were certainly prominent among my general ancestry. Their mixed descendants, the founders of an English identity, settled in their farmsteads, largely unmoved by the later Norman aristocracy, eventually becoming my high medieval ancestors.

Anglo-Saxon DNA

I have previously blogged details and a summary of recent investigations into Anglo-Saxon DNA in Anglo-Saxon Migration - the latest genetic evidence 2024

Anglo-Saxon copper-alloy brooches, parts of a cruciform brooch or a square-headed brooch recovered by my late father in a field at Morley St Botolph, Norfolk (recorded).

The two options of this early route into Britain (B), and a later Anglo-Saxon entry into Britain (A), now rejoin as we approach the written record.

GO TO NEXT ACT - Late Medieval South Norfolk and the Black Death. 1349 CE


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Ovum Act 7 Option B Iceni, La Tène culture, South East Britain 55 CE

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La Tène culture.

Meet my 70th great-grandmother. It is 55 CE, and we are standing in the Brecks of Britannia—the wild, sandy heaths of present-day Southwest Norfolk. My matrilineal ancestor is a woman of the Iceni, living within the twilight of the Late Iron Age La Tène culture.

​In the background, a Roman officer watches; for now, the peace holds. But the air is heavy. In this client kingdom, debt is mounting and old freedoms are eroding. Tension is building, and the storm is only a few years away.

The Iceni were a conservative people. Culturally, they remained resistant to the pull of the Roman world at a time when neighbouring tribes were falling over each other to secure trade and diplomatic favour.

​Yet, the Iceni were not entirely immune to the allure of Roman innovation. They took inspiration where it suited them, blending Mediterranean ideas with their own ancient traditions. They minted their own coins, but in a fiercely local La Tène style that favored abstract symbolism over Roman realism.

At Gallows Hill in present-day Thetford, a monumental timber complex had been raised—a site that mirrored the scale of Roman architecture, yet remained built on their own terms. It was civilization, reimagined through an Iceni lens:

Gallows Hill Iceni site in 55 CE as visualised by AI.

Coins were minted at the site, include this Iceni gold stator, found in a Norfolk field by my late father:

Only a few miles away, at Thetford Castle Hill, an Iceni fort had guarded a natural fording place of the Little Ouse River.

This was my ancestor's world. But then 60/61 CE, that world erupted in the Boudiccan Rebellion followed by Roman suppression.

Weaving the story of a matrilineage that will survive many such crises. I have previously blogged extensively on the Iceni in:  The Iceni, their land, their people - Iron Age Britain. Here is a rehash of the introduction:

The Iceni

The Iceni was the name Roman writers gave to a Brittonic tribe, or perhaps a tribal federation, that inhabited modern-day Norfolk and parts of north-west Suffolk and north-east Cambridgeshire. While the name was solidified by Roman historians, its origins are slightly older. Julius Caesar, writing in 54 BC, may have been describing them when he referred to a tribe north of the Thames called the Cenimagni. Evidence for the name is also found in their own archaeology; Iron Age coins minted in the region bear the inscriptions ECE or ECEN. By the following centuries, Roman administration officially recognised their territory as the civitas of the Iceni.

Who were the Iceni?

The Late Iron Age people of Norfolk were primarily an agrarian society, cultivating small fields of wheat and barley. Sheep and cattle were central to their economy, with the region's salt marshes providing excellent grazing.

Archaeologically, the Iceni stand out from their neighbours. Unlike the "classic" Iron Age landscape of Southern England, which featured heavily defended hillforts and ring-ditched enclosures, Icenian settlements appear to have been largely unenclosed farmsteads. This lack of visible defences suggests a different social structure or perhaps a more stable internal peace than that found in the hillfort-heavy West and South.

Living in the Round

Where Icenian farmsteads align with the wider British tradition is in their architecture: the roundhouse. These structures were masterfully adapted for the British climate:

  • Structure: A ring of timber posts supported walls made of wattle and daub (woven hazel plastered with a mixture of mud, straw, and animal dung).

  • Roofing: A steep, conical thatched roof allowed rain to run off quickly and smoke from the central hearth to vent naturally through the thatch.

  • Orientation: Almost universally, the doors—often protected by a small porch—faced south-east. This consistency is so striking that archaeologists believe it was more than just a way to catch the morning light; it likely represented a deep-seated religious or cosmological taboo against facing the cold, dark north-west.

The Boudican Revolt

While the Iceni were a distinct cultural group for centuries, the name is forever synonymous with the event that nearly toppled Roman Britain: the Boudican Revolt.

Boudica (also rendered as Boudicca or the Victorian Boadicea) was the queen of the Iceni during the mid-1st century AD. Following the Claudian invasion of AD 43, the Iceni were one of several tribes that negotiated a surrender, allowing them to remain a semi-independent client kingdom.

However, tension simmered beneath the surface. The Romans established a colonia (a settlement for retired soldiers) at Camulodunum (Colchester) on the lands of the neighbouring Trinovantes. The locals were forced to pay heavy tributes to fund the city and a massive temple dedicated to the deified Emperor Claudius—a stinging symbol of foreign occupation.

The Spark of Rebellion

The crisis peaked around AD 60 upon the death of the Icenian King, Prasutagus. In his will, he left half his kingdom to his daughters and half to the Roman Emperor, hoping to preserve his family's lineage. Instead, the Romans interpreted the king's death as an excuse to annex the entire territory.

When his widow, Boudica, protested, the Roman response was brutal: she was publicly flogged and her daughters were raped. This catalyst united the Iceni in a quest for vengeance. They raised a massive army, joined by the aggrieved Trinovantes, and marched south. Their first target was Colchester, which they razed to the ground.

GO TO NEXT ACT OPTION B - Romano-Britons and early Anglo-Saxons in Tas Valley, Britain. 440 CE


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Ancestors at Postwick, Norfolk. Illegitimacy and suicide.

Postwick All Saints.

I had to recently confess to another researcher, that I had made an association, between two generations, based only on circumstancial evidence.  I had the below image, a marriage between two of my 4th great grandparents at Postwick All Saints in 1825:

William Rose, singleman, groom, of Bradeston, with Elizabeth Wilkinson singlewoman, of Postwick.  Bradeston was a parish nearby, between Brundall, Blofield, and Lingwood.  Today, it only consists as a hall farm, and as a church, the church of St Michael's and All Angels:

But as for Elizabeth Wilkinson's origins, I couldn't find her baptism online.  However, between Ancestry.co.uk, Findmypast.co.uk and FreeReg.org.uk, I did discover that there was a Sarah Wilkinson living in Postwick, that had four daughters baptised there (illegitimate) between 1806 and 1816.  Census records suggested that Elizabeth would have been born at Postwick, around 1803.  I hadn't seen a lot of Wilkinsons in the area, so I dared to make the assumption, that she was an earlier daughter of Sarah Wilkinson.  Naughty I know, but I just felt it so likely.

But then when challenged for the source, I felt that embarrasment of taking a short cut.  The problem with Online Genealogy is that it's easy to assume that all records are there.  They are not, not even for Norfolk, that has a good online presence in parish records and transcripts.  So it was time to get off the computer, and take a look.  I did this yesterday.

First two stops were at Postwick and Bradeston churches, to take the photographs for this post, and to get the feeling for them.  I was pleased that the marriage recorded that William Rose was of Bradeston, because my William Rose was of Brundall.  It's only a half of a mile from Bradeston, indeed, it has been absorbed as a deserted parish, into Brundall.  It supported that I had the correct William & Elizabeth Rose, the recorded parents of my 3rd great grandfather Robert Rose, who was baptised at Lingwood in 1829.

Then I drove a few miles to the Norfolk County Archive at County Hall.  I soon located the correct microfilm.  It covered baptisms leading up to 1813.  Perfect.  Within five minutes, I located the baptism of my 4th great grandmother at Postwick: " Elizabeth, daughter of Sarah Wilkinson, was born & bapt' February 19th 1803 ":

There she was, and I was correct, she was an earlier daughter of Sarah Wilkinson.  Not only that, but further along the roll revealed another two daughters of Sarah.  In all, she had six daughters born at Postwick, between 1803 and 1816, all illegitimately.  I've seen a single parent family like this before, but on my father's side in Swanton Morley, Mid Norfolk.  The full story we will probably never know, and it would be wrong to judge.  Very often poor young women suffered from terrible brutality.  Sometimes, this may have matured into a level of independence.  She may have even had partners, or a long term lover.  We don't know.  Illegitimacy was far from rare in 19th Century Norfolk amongst the rural poor.  But when you see a family like this, you do wonder, at the hardship that the family most likely went through.

On my Ancestry tree, the family now look like this:

Yes, it appears that the mother, Sarah Wilkinson herself was born nearby at Great Plumstead, illegitimate.

While I was looking through the roll of microfilm for Postwick Parish Registers, I spotted more names from my tree.  Children being baptised of a William Key and his wife Sarah (née Wymer).  William and Sarah Key were again, 4th great grandparents of mine.  Actually, I descend from both the earlier mentioned Rose's, and the Wymers twice over - but further back on their lines.  A lot of people in early 19th Century Norfolk were distant or even close cousins.  I'm afraid that it was true, at least for the rural poor.  I'm descended on my mother's side from a Henry & Mary Rose (née Gorll), and a Jacob & Elizabeth Wymer (née Moll), both couples at least twice over.  Pedigree folding appears on that side of my tree, in the record.

Looking through the microfilm in the Archive Centre, I recorded three previously unknown children of William and Sarah Key (née Wymer) baptised at Postwick All Saints.  I hadn't encountered them online.  They were all later births than those that I had previously found online.  This lead me to a sad thought.  You see, William Key, my 4th great grandfather, took his own life when some of those children were still quite young:

I mentioned his story in an earlier post.  His body was fished out of the River Wensum in 1803.  The inquest gave a verdict of insanity and suicide.  On the way home, I wondered about what happened to those younger children.  My 3rd great grandfather, William Key (II) was in his mid twenties, and on his second marriage, after his first wife passed away.  But what about his younger siblings, such as Abraham Key - born in 1779, he would have been only six years old when his father drowned.

When I got home, I took a look.  This is where Online Genealogy does work - because not only had Abraham survived, but he had moved away from Norfolk, as so many of the rural poor did during the 19th century.  He married Ann Goldsmith from Hassingham, and they moved south, to 19th century Southwark, London:

He survived and went on to have sons in London.

But briefly back to Postwick (pronounced locally as Pozzick) for a moment:

I love baptism fonts.  You can touch them, and now that your ancestors passed by them, centuries ago.  Perfect touchstones for time travellers.    My 4th great grandfather, William Key, was baptised here on 27th Aug 1778.  My 4th great grandmother, Elizabeth Wilkinson, was baptised here on 19th February 1803.  I photographed it, and touched the stone in thought of them, on 15th February 2019.

An ancestor with a drink problem

Newspaper archives are one of my favourite genealogical resources.  Asides from scrolling through microfilm at local studies libraries, I also subscribe the the British Newspaper Archive at Findmypast.co.uk and I've used it to add a lot of meat to the bones.  However ... these reports, especially when pertaining to my poor ancestors, were as often as not, generated when they had gotten themselves into a little mischief or trouble.  Sometimes as victims, sometimes as guilty parties.

This one, on my mother's side.

15th September 1803.  Postwick, Norfolk.




I believe that poor guy, William Key, who's body was found in the river, was my 5th great grandfather, William Key.  It says "drowned himself".  He had married Sarah Wymer in 1778 (a very Norfolk surname, that appears a few times in my tree), and they had four children, one born in 1799.  I wonder what happened?  Non compos mentis.  Insane.  At least that was how they saw it in 1803.

Their descendants never moved far from the River Yare or that tributary, the Wensum.  That river flows through the family history.  Their grown son, William Key (II), had moved down the Yare a few miles, and lived in the village of Freethorpe.  He had married Susanna Flint in 1801.  However, Susanna (née Flint) died shortly after, and a few years later, William, a widower at age 24, stood in nearby Strumpshaw church, where he married would you believe, another Susanna, Susannah Briggs.  These sort of events can so confuse genealogists.  In a short time, he had married two Susannahs.  Easily missed.

By Susannah (née Briggs), he had five children.  Their mother's family must have held some sort of importance to them, as three of them had Briggs as a second forename. Both William, and Susannah's fathers - as most men were in Norfolk, worked as agricultural labourers, farm hands if you like.  As was also indeed, their first son, my 3rd great grandfather, William Key (III).  William the Third, married my 3rd great grandmother, Mary Waters at Freethorpe Church here in Norfolk, in 1823.



They had several children in Freethorpe, including in 1848, my 2nd great grandfather, George Key - and this is where my story is heading.

George married Sarah Ann Goffen at Freethorpe Church in 1870.  Sarah's family were involved in the Wherry trade along the River Yare.  Wherries were a particular Norfolk style of sailing boat, used for tranporting goods and people, along the waterways known as the Norfolk Broads:



Her father and his brothers were either wherrymen / watermen, boat carpenters, riverside innkeepers, or ran lime yards next to the river a couple of miles away at Reedham.  Her father was pretty much all of them, especially an inn keeper, and a carpenter.  Perhaps he introduced his daughter Sarah to George in the boatyard - as young George was a journeyman carpenter.

Here's a photo that includes Sarah - the little old lady right in the centre of my grandparent's wedding in 1932, behind bride and groom:




George and Sarah went on to have five children born at Freethorpe, including my great grandmother Florence Key.  In family lore, I knew nothing about her husband, my 2nd great grandfather George Key.  Then the British Newspaper Archives opened up an insight.  But perhaps it wasn't the best insight into George's character.

It appears that he had a drink problem.  So bad, that he kept being arrested by the local policeman:



Oh dear.  He's only been married to Sarah for eight years.  They have two daughters and a third on the way.  Charged with drunkeness on the highway, and fined 5 shillings with 11 shillings costs.  That must have hurt the family.  Was it a one off?

The following January:



Oh no!  I feel so sorry for my 2nd great grandmother.  Not only was her husband a drunk, but also a wife abuser.  But I'm proud that she had him charged for the "threatening language" that he used against her.  The little woman had guts.  She had three young kids to care for.  George was bound over for six months.  He had to stay good.

Maybe he did stay good for a while.  But not for ever.

1897:



Now he's nicked table cloths from a pub!  He gets a massive three quid fine, and a month's hard labour in prison.  He was on remand.  He hasn't been a good boy.  Poor Sarah.

Finally, 1899:



Twelve previous convictions for being out on the lash!  He never reformed.  He had a drink problem throughout his adult life.  He's now up to recieving punishments of a fine and 14 days of hard labour in the nick.

George passed away in 1912.  In this case, no family lore reached me.  Nothing indicated on the usual birth, death, marriages, certificates, etc.

The Buzzard

Photo above by Tom Lee at Flickr

The first wild buzzard that I ever saw was on Dartmoor.  That must have been during the 1980s.  A little later, I saw them in Scotland.  There were no buzzards in East Anglia when I was a kid.  The Victorian gamekeeper had shot and gin trapped them to extinction in SE England.

Move on to the 21st century, and you can see buzzards all over East Anglia.  Over fields, woodlands, even marshes.  They came back, and they came back in force.


My last post about biophillia wouldn't be complete without mentioning the buzzard.  I've seen and heard several individuals on a single day's hike across Norfolk.  You hear or see them, often in pairs, gliding along the headlands of fields, before settling in a copse of trees.  You witness a pair, and just as their calls start to fade, you hear more ahead.  I've found their feathers.  I've had several close encounters.  Magical moments, where I've spotted their silent flight from a spot only metres away.  Every time is magic 


The above woodlands provide one example, during a hike, along the Wherryman's Way, on a hot summers day earlier this year.  As I approached in the day's heat, I could hear buzzards in those trees, either side of the narrow path.


As I pass through, I see large brown wings launching from branches.  I can't describe the feeling that these sightings give me, except that it's as close to anything that this atheist experiences to spiritual.

A buzzard above the Wherryman's Way in Norfolk, being mobbed by a hobby.

I've seen them launch from nearby foliage, as I cross the footbridge over a stream.  I've seen one sitting on a dead rabbit in a field.  I've seen one land on the road in front of our car, before launching up again, providing a magical spectacle.  I've seen them among the back headed gulls following a plough for worms and bugs.  I've seen many of them being mobbed on the wing by rooks and carrion crows, that clearly regard them as a threat to the rookery.  I've seen them soaring over medieval churches, on fence posts by busy roads, over marshes, flying over the suburbs of Norwich, on the ground in horse paddocks.

Now red kites, another raptor that has returned to East Anglia, are a wonderful sight.  But for myself, it's the common buzzard.


Buzzard over the Boadica Way, Norfolk.

Three Generations of the Curtis Family of Norfolk

Above, Samuel William "Fiddler" Curtis, born in 1852 at Hassingham, Norfolk, the grandson of William Curtis (senior).

My 5th great grandparents, John Curtis, and Ann Annison, were married at Hassingham, Norfolk in 1801.  I have so far been unable to trace where either of this couple originated, or their parents, but there were already Curtis and Annison families in that part of Norfolk prior, and I currently have no reason to think that they had moved into the area from elsewhere.  I just lack their baptism records.  Maybe one day I'll find them.

Hassingham in it's landscape in 1797.

Over the following eleven years, Ann Curtis (née Annison) had five children baptised at the Hassingham parish church of St Mary's, including a John, Richard, Theodosia, William, and finally in 1812, a Priscilla Curtis.

St Mary's of Hassingham.

William Curtis (I)

Their third son, William Curtis, was born at Hassingham during the winter of 1807/1808, and baptised in February at St Mary's.   His father, John may have rented a tract of land, to farm himself, or he may have relied on selling his labour to other farmers.  He may have done both.  The rural poor had lost all of their ancient rights, with the enclosures, but they were free to sell their labour and skills to whoever.  However, as the Agricultural Revolution gained pace - so the market for their labour was reducing, with the gradual introduction of new machinery and agricultural processes.

In 1827, William Curtis married my 4th great grandmother, Mary Ann Rose, at nearby Strumpshaw.  They were both marked down as of being of that parish, both were single, both were illiterate.  An interesting twist for myself looking at that marriage register, is that their witnesses were Mary Ann's sister, Rebecca Rose, and her fiancé, John Shorten.  I only posted about their life a week ago "From Norfolk Labourer to Yankee Gunner".  That couple were to marry in the next entry of that Strumpshaw Marriage Register, in November.  They ended up as farmers in Illinois, USA, with five of their sons serving in the Unionist Army in the American Civil War.  I keep seeing this theme in my Family History.  My direct ancestors were the ones that usually stayed - often never moving far from their village of birth.  But many of their siblings didn't stay.  I'll come back to this theme later in this post.

Between 1828, and 1850, the couple were to have a total of at least eight children, all baptised at nearby Buckenham church: Anne Amelia Curtis (1828), my 3rd great grandfather, William Curtis (the junior, 1830), Henry Curtis (1833), Alfred Curtis (1836), George Curtis (1838), Priscilla Curtis (1841), Sarah Curtis (1848), and Henry Curtis (1849).  A lot of mouths to feed.  How was William supporting these children?  If I look at the 1841 census, I find the family, as it was then, located at Buckenham (Ferry), Norfolk.  William was a 34 year old agricultural labourer.  These had been hard times for agricultural labourers in Norfolk.  Machinery and new agricultural techniques continued to replace much of the traditional labour.  Workhouses had been constructed - and Poor Laws were halting any provision of parish relief for the poor, outside of the workhouse - where inmates would be segrated from their families, and punished for being poor.  The small farmers, once the brothers of the free labourers, were increasingly associating more with other figures of the rural establishment - the squires, the land owners, and the parsons.  They often sat on the poor law union boards, determined to punish the poor.  The Established Church just watched on - and the rural poor were turning to Methodism, and other Non-conformist chapels.

In 1830, the countryside erupted in violence - as labourers swarmed the countryside, attacking workhouses, farms, and in particular, the new threshing machines that were replacing much of their labour.  They often did this under the name of a mythical Captain Swing, and hence this period of machine breaking and rioting was known as the Swing Riots.  Another of my ancestors, on my father's side, was gaoled for leading a local Swing riot, at Attleborough.  It was a period in which many local establishment figures were seriously concerned - the fear of Revolution was still in the air from France - indeed, French spies were often conjured up as being at the root of the problem - rather than their treatment of the rural poor.

It passed.  But things did not improve for the East Anglian rural working class.

In the 1851 census, William, his wife Mary Ann, and their eldest children, were all recorded iin Buckenham as being agricultural labourers.  Only there was now a ninth child.  Richard Curtis.  But he wasn't born at Buckenham Ferry, nor even in the County of Norfolk.  He was born in 1850 at Firsby, Lincolnshire.  This may infer that the family (if not just Mary Ann), had between 1841, and 1851, moved for a a period, to the Skegness area of East Lincolnshire.  People were on the move.  The rural poor were being squeezed out of East Anglia by the unemployment, poverty, and the workhouse.  Perhaps William found more profitable labour in Lincolnshire for a while.  Perhaps his skills with horses, or perhaps - like others he was attracted by the Fen drainage schemes, working as a digger - maybe like other that I've seen - it was work laying the railways?  Firsby railway station opened for business in 1848.  The railways were a part of a phenomena of migration that occurred across Norfolk during the Mid to Late 19th Century - they brought work, often attracted labourers away - and eventually carried many Norfolk families away to the Industrial North, to London, or to sea ports for migration elsewhere.

But by the 1851 census - they were back in their ancestral lands - back in Buckenham, Norfolk, by the River Yare, as though nothing had happened - except for that place of birth for young Richard.

Move on another ten years - the family are not in Buckenham in 1861.  I cannot find William at all.  However, I do find his wife Mary Ann Curtis, with some of their children, living in the Rows at Great Yarmouth, Norfolk.  Mary Ann records her occupation as charwoman - a woman that worked hard, washing clothes and linen for a living.  Their daughter Priscilla Curtis, is recorded as a silk weaver:

I wonder where was William?  He could be at sea, or working away, sending money home.  Too old for the military.  I can't find anything on him in Criminal Records.  What I do find, in the British Newspaper archives, are some references to a cork cutter by the name of William Curtis, living in Great Yarmouth, dating to 1858 and 1864:

Was this our William Curtis (senior)?  Above he was working on Charlotte Street (since renamed Howard Street), Great Yarmouth.  In 1864, he was addressed to the Church Plain, Great Yarmouth.  If it was our William, perhaps he was living with Mary Ann and the children - but was away on business, or perhaps some other work (fishing?), on the night of the census.

William and Mary Ann Curtis, age 61 and 62 years of age, appear to have settled in the Yarmouth and Gorleston area.  On the 1871, William and Mary Ann Curtis were addressed on "the footpath to Burgh".  William recorded his occupation as a marsh man.  Marshmen were responsible for the livestock kept on the marshes - horses, cattle, and sometimes sheep, fattening on the rich drained marsh grasses.  He would have tended to cattle and other livestock along the southern edge of Breydon Water - an enclosed sea estuary, with the ruins of an old Roman shore-fort called Burgh Castle, on the higher ground immediately above the marshes.  I posted an article of Burgh Castle here.

The view over the marshes from Burgh Castle.

Another ten years later, William Curtis (the senior), and his wife Mary, are now living in Litchfield Place, Southtown, Gorleston.  Age 72, he now lists his occupation, for the very last time, as a Steam Engine Driver.  Now that was a surprise.

William passed away in Gorleston, in March 1888.  He was eighty years old.


William Curtis (II)

I mentioned above, that my 3rd great grandfather, William Curtis (the junior), was born at Buckenham, and baptised at Strumpshaw, Norfolk, in 1830.

William Curtis married Georgianna Larke, at Hassingham Church (photo further above) on the 11th February 1852.  They appear to have lived in the village of Hassingham, Norfolk for several decades.  No evidence this time of flits to Lincolnshire, or down river to Yarmouth.  This generation stayed put.  Georgianna was descended from two parish clerks for nearby Cantley.

Georgianna gave birth to at least nine children at Hassingham: my 2nd great grandfather (pictured at the top of this post) Samuel William Curtis (1852), Theodosia Curtis (1854), Priscilla Curtis (1856), Alfred George Curtis (1858), Sarah Ann Curtis (1861), Mary Curtis (1863), Walter Curtis (1865), Eliza Curtis (1867), and finally, Henry Curtis (1870).

Nothing unusual in their 1861 census record - Will was a 30 year old agricultural labourer with his family living in the parish of Hassingham:

Ten years later in 1871 - living at Hospital Cottages in Hassingham, still all as would be expected:

Another ten years later, William, Georgianna, and their sons and daughters Walter, Eliza, and Henry Curtis, are living on Church Road.  No change, William is an agricultural labourer.  Nothing on record happens to this family.  They are the stereotype of the Norfolk rural working class family.  William's 72 year old father was by now a steam engine driver living at Gorleston.

Move on to 1891.  Not a lot of change.  Except that they are living on Hassingham Road (High) and only their daughter Mary remains with them in the household.  Mary is recorded as an assistant teacher.

1893.  I have a record from the British Newspaper Records that looks like our William Curtis (II).  A farmer named John Draper at Burlingham St Edmund, accuses him in court of cheating him of a toll fee.  He had accused William - described as a teamman (a person that has skills at working a team of horses), of fraud.  Draper suggested that he paid Curtis to take two wagons and several horses to Yarmouth via the new toll road - but that he in reality took them via the old roads and pocketed the toll fee that he had been given.  The only witness backed up Will's account - and the case was dismissed:

However, I suspect that William's reputation was tarnished by this case - and there were few employer farmers in the area.  He survived this.  Maybe his personality and reputation was strong enough for other farmers to trust him.  In 1901, he was living at Broad Farm, Hassingham.  Yes, he was now a 70 year old agricultural worker.

He still had labour to sell.  His beloved wife Georgianna died at Hassingham on the 1st April 1911 age 79.  A few months later, the 1911 census record's Williams status.  Age 80, he is still recorded as a working, employed, agricultural labourer.  Now a widower, he had two of his daughters living with him.  Mary who was single and age 45 (a teacher?), and Sarah, now under a married name - Sarah Stephenson.  She had moved many miles away - but as we will see in the next generation with her sister Theodosia, not everything had gone well.  In the wake of her mother's death, she was back home with her elderly father William.

William continued on.  The Curtis's keep doing this - they had longetivity for a number of generations.  He died at nearby Lingwood, age 96 in 1926.  A grandson, J.P. Curtis, registered his death.  Cause, senility and haematemesis. 


Theodosia and Sarah Ann Curtis - sisters.

As I noted above, two of William (II) and Georgianna's daughters, were named Theodosia Curtis (born 1854), and Sarah Ann Curtis (born 1861) at Hassingham, Norfolk.  They had an elder brother named Samuel William Curtis - pictured right at the beginning of this post.  He was my 2nd great grandfather.  This makes Theodosia and Sarah Ann - my 3rd great aunts.

Theodosia met a fisherman at Yarmouth.  Maybe she was visiting on a market day.  The boys working in the fishing fleet must have been exciting - they risked their life's out at sea, they didn't just work the land - they would sail out.  His name was John Mitchell.  In 1874, Theodosia married John.

They had a son:

He was baptised at Yarmouth in November 1877.  It appears that like many Yarmouth fisherman wifes, Theodosia lived in the Yarmouth Rows.  Her grandmother Mary Curtis, had lived there no more than ten years earlier - and with her grandfather, now lived nearby in Gorleston.

Something happened.  You get that sometimes in genealogy.  a family appears smashed up, removed from records.  I'm going to make a guess.  A lot of fishermen were relocating from East Coast harbours like Great Yarmouth, to Kingston Upon Hull, Yorkshire.  My guess is that they moved there as a family between Nov 1877 and 1889.  I don't know what happened to their child.  He disappears.  But so does his father, John Mitchell.  He dies.  I can't find them on either the 1871 or 1881 censuses.  In future, Theodosia, now living in Hull, Yorkshire, declares herself as a widow.  Pushed to guess, I'm going to say that John was lost at sea.  It was a hazardous living then.

On the 1st March 1890 at Hull, Yorkshire, the widow Theodosia Mitchell, married a James Petersen, son of a Christiansen Petersen, an officer.  I'm going to guess that these Scandinavian names may be Norwegian.  James Petersen, like her late husband, is recorded as a fisherman.  I have one record of him - that marriage to Theodosia - then he also disappears.

But .. before I continue on Theodosia, let me move back in time to Hassingham in Norfolk, and to her little sister Sarah Ann Curtis.  

In 1881, 20 year old Sarah, was working as a servant in a Yarmouth household.  Was she still in contact with Theodosia - I think so.  

Like her sister, she moved up to Kingston Upon Hull, in the East Riding of Yorkshire.


The Great Unwritten Migration from Norfolk to Sculcoates, Hull, Yorkshire.

Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration - but I keep seeing Hull in the East Riding of Yorkshire - particularly it's district of Sculcoates, in my Family Tree - as a place that a number of siblings of my direct Norfolk ancestors, moved to.  Both on my mother's, and my father's side.  I feel that this is a history that someone needs to write.  It seems that the establishing of the railways, with stations both in Norfolk, and in Kingston Upon Hull in Yorkshire, facilitated a migration event that is unwritten.  The squeeze was being put onto the Norfolk poor.  Hull offered higher wages, expanding fishing and ship building industries, and a higher living standard.  The word spread through the Norfolk countryside.  It can't just be my family!


Back to Sarah.  In late 1890, Sarah Ann Curtis married Albert Edward Stephenson at Sculcoates, East Riding of Yorkshire.  Somehow she had also ended up in Hull - and my best guess is her closeness to her sister Theodosia.  Her groom was, again, a Hull fisherman.  Perhaps he knew Theodosia?

During the 1891 England & Wales national census, I find this:

The two sisters from Hassingham, Norfolk were living next door to each other in Hull.  That brings them together.  Things didn't go well though for Sarah.  Her husband had some severe financial problems.  Perhaps gambling?  He ends up in Wakefield Prison in Yorkshire, guilty of debt, no less than three times between 1896 and 1907:

No wonder perhaps, that Sarah was keen to be with her father in 1911.

Back to Theodosia.  Her second husband, the fisherman, James Petersen, also just vanishes from record.  Abandonment, lost at sea, I don't know, but for the second time, she starts declaring that she is a widow.

In 1896, the widow Theodosia Petersen (née Mitchell, née Curtis), married a George Theakston at Sculcoates, Yorkshire.  George wasn't a fisherman.  He was a carter and van driver.  Perhaps that saved his life - for he was Theodosia's third and final spouse.  In the 1901 Census, they were living at 60 frances Street, West Sculcoates, Hull, Yorkshire.  They had a daughter called Evelyn:

Theodosia Theakston survived long enough to be recorded onto the 1939 Register at the oset of WW II:

She finally passed away at Hull in 1942, age 87.